something about nothing

One thing that I don't understand about life is that things perpetually change. Yes I understand that change is constant. I take it back. I do understand it, it bothers me somehow. I understand the changes in evolution, in the ozone layer, in bacteria. But one change i don't understand is the human mind. Why must we make so many decisions and end up forgetting where we started? Am I speaking for all of us, or just myself? Or is it age? Do we learn new things and change our minds whilst growing older. In a way it scares me. Something that made so much sense to me 4 years ago is either long forgotten or completely renovated. My mind is but a season changing. And somehow I still come back to the beginning. To think that I had it all figured out, where I'm going to live, who I'm going to marry, what color car I'd be driving. Or did I? I remember thinking that I had nothing figured out. Am I imagining things that never existed? And now its all changed. I prefer a bicycle anyway and the color doesn't matter. It doesn't bother me that my dreams have changed its meaning. I kind of like this game of pretend and then pretend again. So in the end, what will happen? What is the point of making plans and imagining myself in the future if I will change my mind over and over again? Or is it necessary to get to the next step? And what about my friends? And all the people in my life. Will they disappear? Will their plans perpetually change just as mine and one day we will long forget about each other? I hope not. Sometimes, its just so hard to spread a thought out on a page, it never quite comes out like intended.

Currently reading "The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath" (amazing amazing amazing)

i forgot i like poetry

Daddy
by Sylvia Plath

You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time --
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off the beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My Polack friend

Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene

An engine, an engine,
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You --

Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.

If I've killed one man, I've killed two --
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.

There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.

the little voices inside my head are talking to me again

2 finals down. 2 to go. i think that the caffeine from yesterday morning is still wearing off. this has been the hardest semester so far. no im not complaining, im just merely listening to the little voices inside my head. are the voices part of my unconscious? speaking of which, today i had my final in clinical psychology and i was going over some material with some classmates, in a hysterical mood of course because it was already the second final of the day and i was tripping not only on coffee but just in general. lesson to be learned: vica don;t deal with stress. anyway, so we were going over Freud's psychosexual stages. And I, a who studied the stages since psychology 101 have them down pretty well. i bluntly spit them out but since i was in a neurotic state altogether (after sitting through a devastating 3 hours of clicking on my cps remote and almost falling asleep in my sexual variations final trying desperately to not think about one way analysis of variances) i kind of yell the stages out

ORAL
ANAL
PHALLIC
LATENCY
GENITAL

this was, going to be on the final but my dear classmate reminded me that he did not wish to hear about what i did last night and that we should get back to studying. i really wish i can sit here and talk about Freud, because i honestly believe that the man was a genius. Yes he said some absurd things and that a lot of them do not apply to life today, but he will forever go down in my book of "Vica's book of people who rock." I am hoping to pick up a good book about the sex obsessed man and learn more about his genius.

on a different note, i find myself really in a neurotic state, not just when im on high doses of caffeine but in general. i have these crazy outbursts where i say the most random things, and its not really cute either... its random, and sometimes i say it in the middle of talking, completely changing the subject, interrupting myself. is it possible to have two brains? is there a little me inside of me somewhere? am i a me inside a bigger me? does this rambling show as proof of what i mean? or is it just the lack of sleep.

last night i met up with a school mate to study and we planned to meet at this coffee shop called Evolution. she got there before i did and kept calling me asking exactly where it is, she had a hard time finding it. when i got there she told me that apparently the place is not there anymore, it turned into a restaurant. she even went inside the jamba juice to ask where this Evolution place was and the jamba guy gave her a jerk smile and told her its up the block. jerk! i was mad! she was mad! so of course i walk into jamba for directions to evolution, he gives me his jerk smile and points me in the same direction. i played stupid and bluntly asked him why he gave my friend the wrong directions. jerk.

statistics final tomorrow.

sometimes i say something and then i think "wow im fuckin awesome"

so its been a while since i last wrote. mostly, i don't have much to write about. its true! ive been completely submerged with finals and do not have any free floating thoughts. but i must insist on myself to keep spitting some of my geniusness out because my brain, if well dissected can be put in a museum one day for many to gawk at and point. yep ladies and gentlemen, im brilliant. i take this narcissistic turn because honestly, why the hell not? all my friends tell me that im a nerd, so i am curbing my attitude to its limits. so im going to back track a bit to the weekend before thanksgiving. my dad's surprise birthday. wooooow. seems like so long ago, but basically since it was a surprise, i had to secretly go to school, down my quesadilla on my way to bart, run to the airport, get picked up in burbank, get dressed in the car (im exagerating) and yell "surprise." i think my dad was more surprised by the 40 something people all related to him in some way sitting in the restaurant that when he saw me he was a bit overwhelmed. but the party was a success for my mom and sister who so thoroughly planned this surprise. i found myself in a deja vu the next friday of thanksgiving, in the same restaurant, for my uncles birthday. this place is owned by my cousin and apparently its the new russian hang out spot. its always a russian restaurant for some reason.

fastforward

on my bed listening to joni mitchelle.
i think im really turning into a hippie. i give people evil stares when they walk straight past a perfectly huggable tree and do not even acknowledge its existence.
give hugs.
give love.



currently listening to: fiona apple "extraordinary machine"